Brothers In Arms
by Charlett
Summary: A young Bostonian loses a family and gains another. His brothers in arms are his everything, which only makes him that much more susceptible to those who easily cloud the mind. COMPLETE
1. Prologue

This was originally a prologue to a story featuring Scout and Spy, to show off why Scout acts the way he does around the others. I hope you enjoy what is here.

Still writing my novel, so updates are still sparse (not as sparse as updates on here but anyway):

READ ON!

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There was once a young Bostonian who had brothers. He had seven older brothers that played with him and taught him how to fight and then beat him up if he ever stepped out of line. The young Bostonian learned from his brothers that life was filled with fighting, but he could never experience it himself.

The young Bostonian's brothers always went into battle first; they were a gang of almost superhuman strength. No one in town could defeat the young Bostonian's brothers. But the young Bostonian wanted to fight as well. He wanted to show his brothers that he was as strong as any of them.

And so the young Bostonian ran as fast as he could, everywhere. He wanted to get faster, stronger, better, so he could beat his pack of mad dog siblings into the fray.

It took him an entire year, but the young Bostonian did it. He beat the seven older brothers into the next battle they came to, and he came out with more bruises than any of them. The seven older brothers congratulated their little brother and made supper in honor of the young Bostonian, and the boy was happy that he was accepted by his brothers.

And then they went away.

The second Great War had ended with their father lost to them, so the eight boys had to care for their mother as they grew up. The young Bostonian didn't mind this, as he enjoyed playing with his brothers after their appropriate jobs were complete for the day. But the young men didn't stay young forever. They grew up and found other, better jobs. One was so intelligent he was awarded dozens of grants and moved away to study at Yale. Still another moved out west to work as a film reel producer at Hollywood. Another was shot and killed in an alleyway while walking home from his girlfriend's house and yet another studied abroad in France, fell in love with a French maiden, and sent a letter back to his mother saying that he had gotten married and that he would remain in France to his dying day.

One by one, the young Bostonian's brothers left the home, until he and his mother were the only ones left. The young Bostonian tried to care for both he and his mother while attending school and going steady with a young girl, and he truly appreciated the meager sums that his brothers were able to send back home, but his mother was not making it easy for him to take care of her. He had to watch as his mother broke down from the loss of all of her children.

The young Bostonian wondered why she didn't seem to notice that she hadn't lost all of her children; he was still standing next to her, trying desperately to hold a job without bludgeoning stupid customers with his fists. She didn't seem to realize that he even existed, and so the young Bostonian watched his mother wither away from sadness and die in her home. It was then that the young Bostonian realized he was truly alone.

The young Bostonian packed up what meager belongings he had, left a note on his girlfriend's front step (promising that when he struck it rich, he'd come back in a fancy top hat and cane to finally get her bastard father to stop hitting him whenever he touched her hand), and escaped into the night. He wasn't sure where to go: perhaps to the north, to Canada? The people were welcoming there. He could go south. Mexico was topical and had fair weather. Or perhaps he should try to go west. Manifest Destiny was calling to him centuries after its name was first spoken. Finally, without thinking of a destination, he trudged onward.

The young Bostonian left his home and the memory of his family, his brothers, behind. He didn't know when, where, or how, but someday after his flight from his (former) home, he found himself on a battlefield. Men of all shapes, sizes and colors were fighting, just as he did at home. The men in red swept him up off the field and fed and clothed him. They asked him why he was traveling all alone, and that if he wanted, the young Bostonian could join them. "Anyone who wants to follow us and our leader can do so," they said.

The young Bostonian smiled at each and every one of them, and he tried not to cry from happiness. He had finally found his brothers again. The fact that they looked, spoke and acted differently was beside the point. If he fought with them, they were his family. "Let me come with you," he said with a smile, "I'll run in so fast, the fight'll be ended before you guys even arrive!"

There was uproarious laughter from his new "brothers", and because of his egotistical remark and his lanky build, they soon nicknamed him "Scout".

The young Bostonian… no… Scout once again found himself at home. For the first time in years, he was happy. Once again, he could live with his family, his brothers-in-arms.

---

Prologue Finished!

Send me a review; tell me what you thought.

ALSO: Given the time frame, this Scout's a little older than most Scouts are portrayed. WW2 ended nearly 20 years after TF2 started, so if Scout was conceived during the year that his father left and was killed in the war, he'd be around 23 years old by the time TF2. However, most people, once they hit the war, didn't come back until the end of the war or they did so in body bags, and Scout's father seems a little too strong to not escape the draft until the LAST year, so I dunno.

This problem can be explained by a father who returned after losing a limb, conceiving his kid, and dying later of an old war wound... Or Scout perhaps being upwards of 26-27 years old. A little old, but seeing as how most of TF2 characters are probably at LEAST forty, he's still a greenhorn. So however you want to interpret this story, have fun.


	2. The Scoot 'n' the Spah

The first Chapter, I suppose you could say. I don't know exactly where I want to go with this. There are many places I want it to end but it just won't stop being written. It's a little strange; I hope it turns out well.

I hope you guys enjoy it. Please send something my way and tell me if there's anything that needs improvement or needs to be continued because it was AWESOME or something.

Thanks!

And:

READ ON!

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"Mission Complete!" RED's Scout shouted happily as he zoomed into his base and rubbed his arm lightly. Carrying around his scattergun the whole day was pretty tiring, after all. He leaned against the wall and took a deep breath before jogging into the base. He gave the watching RED Demoman a wave as he rounded a corner and nearly ran into RED's Heavy Weapons Guy.

"Ah hahaha!" Heavy shouted, wrapping one of his giant, meaty arms around Scout and lifting the boy straight off his feet, "Why the rushing, Boy? Can't wait for food and beer? I can't WAIT for Sandvich!"

"Gaaaakkkk!" Scout cried out in distress, fighting the urge to call for RED's Medic; his spine was breaking in two, but it was the end of the day and if he called for help that Medic didn't deem "serious" enough, he'd probably be pumped with so much anesthetic he'd wake up a week later, sans many important organs, "Ye…yeah, Man! Can't wait for those sandwiches! C…can I get down now?"

Heavy laughed aloud and placed his friend on the floor. Scout tried not to cough up too much blood as he scurried off to find RED's Engineer's dispenser, or perhaps a medical kit. Thankfully, he found the former first, and he lay back as the dispenser gave him sweet, clean oxygen and healed his wounds from the day. He gave a jittery gasp when someone dropped down next to him and lifted his hardhat to get a good look at the kid, "'ey Boy, How're ya doin'?"

Scout smiled in reply and winked at the man, "Doin' well."

RED's Engineer smiled and clasped his large hand on the boy's shoulder, "Welcome home, Kid."

"Thanks," Scout replied, smiling lightly. He took Engineer's proffered hand and stood up from it, "Anything special happen today?"

"Nothing of the sort. Sentry blasted BLU's Pyro on his way in, though."

"Ooch," Scout winced from the thought, "I suppose nothing huge happened to me, either. When did Spy get back, by the way?"

Engineer blinked from behind his thick goggles, "Spy? He hasn't returned yet."

Scout stared for a moment, and suddenly shouted, "But WHY? I totally let him go ahead of me! I took a bullet for him to let him escape!" He flailed lightly as he explained the whole happenings of the reconnaissance mission, "…and I told him to get back ahead of me because I can outrun them! Oh man, what if they caught him?"

Engineer shrugged, "Then he dies, most likely."

"Butbutbutbut we were going TOGETHER and now we're NOT together! Who'll watch my back when I go scouting NOW, huh?"

"You think about that AFTER you give me a status report, Maggot!" Scout jumped nearly a foot in the air from fright, and he looked up to see RED's Soldier, glaring at him from under his helmet (somehow).

"Soldier!" Scout shouted, "Spy hasn't returned yet! We've gotta send out a search for him!"

"I'll tell YOU what to do and when to do it, Boy!" Soldier shouted, "I didn't win these decorative and varied medals for nothing, you know!" Scout rolled his eyes and Engineer tried not to smile as Soldier continued his rant, "Now you listen here, when you've learned to fight like a true man, then maybe I'll leave some of the decision making to you, but for now, I need what information you have and I need it NOW. Our Fearless Leader's not going to like it if she hears we didn't collect even a speck of information from those BLU bastards!"

Both Scout and Engineer shrunk at the thought. Their Fearless Leader was NOT a woman to be crossed, and so Scout bit his tongue back and began to relay his message; he was interrupted by RED's Pyro, who had seemed to have caught something, "Well, lookit what the cat drag'd in…" Engineer said with a smile.

"You ignorant buffoon!" BLU's Spy shouted angrily as Pyro carried him above the floor by the back of his collar. He looked similar to a puppet, the way he swayed as he was moved, "Unhand me this instant! When I get my hands on you…!"

"Good work, Pyro!" Soldier proclaimed, jumping down to the first floor of the courtyard to get a good look at the man in the BLU pinstripe suit. Scout, ever the one to enjoy a good brawl, moved up to inspect Soldier's treatment of prisoners. He wondered if it was true that the enemy spy really DID bleed…

"Now, first of all, to see just what's under this mask!" Soldier proclaimed loudly. Engineer dug his finger into his ear in an attempt to stop the ringing. Spy continued to protest as Soldier wrenched at the mask, and soon it came away.

Everyone gasped at what was under it.

RED's Spy's mask!

"What!?" Soldier shouted, tossing the mask away as Pyro dropped his friend. Spy then proceeded to shed his BLU pinstripe suit and was soon standing before them in traditional RED apparel, "What is the meaning of this!? Explain yourself, Maggot!"

"I was pursued during the escape," Spy replied coolly as he adjusted his tie, "I had to escape through the sewers into our base to avoid being caught, but I disguised myself as the BLU Spy so they would not suspect that I was on your side."

"I meant how did you manage to wear all that extra clothing without it looking so god damned bulky!?" Soldier shouted. Scout sighed and Pyro left now that there was nothing going on that caught his/her attention, "Who wears two masks, anyway!?"

"I do, apparently…" Spy replied as he lit up and took a long drag, "Now then, if it's alright with you, I have dinner I need to procure."

Soldier steamed as Spy turned around and sauntered off to the mess hall; Scout was soon at Spy's heels like an adoring puppy, "Hahaha, you sure showed him, huh?"

"I suppose I did."

The response cut off any conversation from continuing, until Scout piped up again, "Hey, Spy? I'm glad you're okay."

Spy didn't respond. He took another drag and let it into the air (Scout learned how to hold his breath when Spy exhaled, to keep from getting too much smoke in his lungs). Finally, the European flicked some ash away and replied without even looking at the Bostonian, "I'm glad I'm okay too."

---

The mess hall was soon filled with multiple members of the REDs. Sometimes the menu was potluck, sometimes it was round robin, and sometimes it was free-for-all. Scout was happy to see that Heavy was cooking this time, although he didn't really like what Heavy enjoyed preparing (It was Spy who always ended up cooking the greatest food even though he couldn't taste a lick of it, being a chain smoker and all). At least it wasn't Scout having to cook anything, however. The only thing he knew how to make was cake, and that was only because he had a recipe from his old (most likely ex by this time) girlfriend back home.

Scout was glad he didn't have to cook that night, but Heavy was hardly any better. The young man glared at the seven dozen "Sandviches" and the three dozen various bottles of beer, which Heavy, Engineer, and Demoman immediately ravaged. Scout played with the olive on the top of the sandwich's toothpick, and wondered where Pyro was. S/he never arrived during dinnertime; the only presence s/he made known in the kitchen was missing leftovers the next day. At least they ASSUMED it was Pyro who dug in by then. For all they knew s/he never actually ate anything but instead feasted on the fires s/he created.

Dinner soon became lively, however, when most of the team had become as inebriated as Demoman was constantly, "You know what we need?" RED's Sniper suddenly said at approximately the same time as every night. Half of the team groaned loudly as he chugged his coffee (non-decaf, of course) and slammed the mug to the table, "We need some…"

"Vomen, vee know," RED's Medic drawled with arms crossed.

"Whyyyyyy do we need women around here?" Scout groaned, "They'd only get in the way anyway!"

"Now you lissen here, women ah the backbone o' any battlement, Boy!" Demoman proclaimed, pointing his bottle of alcohol at the young man and trying not to pass out, "They do tha washin' and the stitchin', and they're good fer morale improvement at the end o' da day!" Half of the battalion laughed aloud at the last example, and Scout rolled his eyes as Spy smirked widely through his drink.

"Girls are very soft," Heavy suddenly spoke up loudly, not exactly sure where the conversation was going (But by GOD he'd be a part of it if his name was "Heavy Weapons Guy"! Which it wasn't but that was beside the point), "But then again… I never touch women much. My Mom was VERY soft, though, especially when she tucked me in at night!" There was silence for a moment, and Medic inched further and further from his usual meat shield.

The conversation died even more when Soldier proclaimed that they'd get women when they DESERVED women, "So let's get that intelligence tomorrow and get some well deserved time off, RIGHT?"

"Alright!" Scout shouted aloud, finally happy to be part of the conversation.

"We will show the enemy that our team is better than baby's team!" Heavy roared.

"We do that every day!" Demoman guffawed, "What could we possibly do that will make it even more apparent?"

"Aktually obtain zee intelligenze zis time?" Medic offered. Sniper tried very hard to keep from laughing aloud, and instead proceeded to snigger uncontrollably as Engineer wiped his goggles of the various spit that had flown over the dinner table. It seemed that he and Spy weren't in a talkative mood, as neither of them were adding to the conversation. Although, it could also be that Engineer knew that whatever he said while "slightly" drunk only caused MORE laughter and MORE spit to end up on him, so it seemed he had the right idea either way.

"Well, as much as I 'adore' the conversations of my… amigos…" Spy suddenly said as Demoman and Soldier began a shouting match, "But I must be off. Your sandwiches were wonderful, Heavy. Prego."

Scout waved him goodnight (although with not nearly as much vigor as Heavy), and the man slid up from his chair and slunk from the room, disappearing into the shadows. The man didn't even need a watch to turn invisible, it seemed.

"Mein Gott im Himmel…" Medic swore, rubbing his temples through the shouting match, "I haff no time for zis. Good night."

"Medic is sleeping already?" Heavy asked as Medic stood and strode from the room. He ignored his teammate, and Engineer winked at Scout.

"You'd best head off to bed too, Boy. You and Spah ah the backbone of the operation, so be sure ya're extra rested, alright?"

"Okay, good night, everyone," Scout replied. He was met with grunts of agreement and Engineer gave him a wave. Scout stood up, but he turned to the doorway when he heard footsteps charging towards them. What could possibly make someone want to run after filling up with so much food and alcohol…?

Medic slid into the doorway, his hair frazzled from his run and his eyes wide with apparent fear, "Ze… Zee BLUs…" he finally managed to gasp, "Zey're… zey're stormink zee base…!"

To Be Continued...

---

I'm not sure what I want to say here. I hope it speaks for itself because I can't think of anything right now.

Aside from Spy's "I'm glad I'm okay too", because it sounds a lot like my brother when he was being a jerk when we were younger. Which is kinda what I was going for? Did it work well? I don't even know.

Tell me, please, if I need to do something to make this better. I'll thank you forever.


	3. The Bold Deceiver

Alright you guys! Next up! I... I'm trying to think of something to say here... but I'm a loss. Hope you enjoy it!

READ ON!

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Medic slid into the doorway, his hair frazzled from his run and his eyes wide with apparent fear, "Ze… Zee BLUs…" he finally managed to gasp, "Zey're… zey're stormink zee base…!"

"What the!?"

"At THIS hour!?"

"Why didn't you DO anything?"

"Do you honestly expect me to stand up to zem ALL? Pyro's keeping zem at bay, but he'll (she'll?) need assistance. Vell zen!" And with that, he adjusted his glasses, slicked his hair back, and rushed back to the front lines to help the valiant defender.

Soldier immediately went to the task of telling people where to go (except for Heavy, who immediately went chasing after Medic), "Sniper, you pick off anyone stupid enough to set foot outside of our base, Demoman, you know where to go, Engineer…"

"I know, I know, we all know," Engineer replied; indeed, mostly everyone was already out the door, "Scout?"

"I uhm… I'll help Sniper out," Scout replied, "We don't know where Spy is right now, so I'll sneak up on them from behind!"

"I wouldn't ask you to do such a task if Spy was around to do it for you…" Soldier said as he loaded his rocket launcher and hefted it over his shoulder, "But I'm counting on you, Kid. Let's move out!"

Scout nodded, cocked his scattergun, and was off like a shot from his weapon.

---

"No one 'round 'ere, Mate," Sniper said as Scout peered down from the sniper deck, "I'll be watchin' though; you sure you're alright on yer own?"

"Hell yeah," Scout said cockily, "I'll just lure some guys out and you snipe 'em, alright?"

"I don't take orders from you…" Sniper said dangerously, "But it's a sound plan, and the only one in danger of death is you. So git down there and pull summin' out fer us, eh?"

Scout suddenly wondered if this was such a good idea, but decided that it wasn't time to be second guessing himself. The others were down there, doing their best, so he had to do his best too!

Scout stopped suddenly and dropped to the floor; he heard a shot. He looked upward and Sniper stared nonchalantly at the opposite base. BLU's Sniper had been watching out for his friends in the other base, but he hadn't pulled his trigger fast enough. RED's Sniper reloaded his weapon and gave Scout a wordless thumbs up. He was ready for the next victim. Scout nodded and dove into his own base from the front.

He spied the first person there, BLU's Medic; he was healing BLU's Heavy and he looked awfully on edge. He turned and saw Scout, and immediately gave a cry of alarm, but Scout was prepared. He raised his scattergun and fired point blank; the Medic went down with a gurgle as blood flood from his mouth and wounds. BLU's Soldier fired a rocket and Scout scrambled outside with a cry. He just hoped that he was able to drag someone out with him.

Amazingly, it wasn't Heavy that came out to take revenge on Scout, but instead BLU's Soldier. He was loading another rocket in his launcher, and he fired at the young man. As Scout ate dirt to avoid the splash damage, the enemy Soldier turned and looked up, "Thought you could catch me off guard, Maggot!?" He shouted, pointing his launcher upward at the origin of the small light that traveled along the BLU supporter's body.

"Sniper!" Scout shouted as the rocket zoomed to its destination. The young man didn't see any body parts fly, so he hoped that it had missed its mark, but it didn't stop him from trying to take down the Soldier in retaliation. NO ONE attacked his teammates without serious repercussions.

RED's Scout met BLU's Soldier with a scattergun on one side and a shovel on the other. Scout ran circles around his enemy, shouting profanities at his enemy. Soldier grunted from a shot at him but struck in a way Scout wasn't prepared for. The shovel came at him in a 180 degree arc, clipping the young man in the face. Soldier watched as Scout slammed into the wall of his own base, his nose spewing blood and his face with a red shovel imprint upon it.

Scout watched as Soldier lifted his shovel, and the RED supporter watched as something flickered behind him. His eyes widened, and the man behind Soldier lifted his finger over his lips. Scout smiled but took the hint and remained silent as RED's Spy made his move.

The butterfly knife came down on the back of BLU's Soldier, and Scout sighed in relief, "Hey, thanks fo-" he was cut off, however, when Spy grasped the shaken Scout's arm.

"Here, through the sewers, vite!"

"S…Spy?" Scout gurgled, trying to pinch his nose closed to staunch the bleeding, "Wh… what's up?"

"Merde, it's all over my suit," Spy hissed at Scout's blood, "Keep your nose up and get down through the sewers. The enemy Spy is heading for our intelligence, and I need you to get there ahead of him. You can do it, right?"

"Can fish swim?" Scout joked. Spy ignored his teammate and set to donning a BLU Soldier's disguise.

"Just go, I'll meet you in the basement. Remember, don't trust anyone down there. Anyone could be the enemy Spy. Ándale! Prisa!"

"Alright! Fine! Jeez!" Scout dove into the moat as Spy went to cause dissention among the BLU ranks. The two promised to meet again in the basement and stop the enemy from taking their intelligence. Scout didn't want any of his friends to get hurt, but with all the times they worked together in the enemy base, he felt a special kinship with Spy. He didn't want to lose his friend, so as Scout stuffed tissues up his nose to staunch the bleeding, he pled with the man he looked up to, "Spy… please, please don't die…"

---

Scout gasped for air when he found himself in the basement of RED's compound. He stared at the desk that their Fearless Leader usually sat behind when she berated her team, but (not surprisingly) she was nowhere to be found. Soldier had probably gotten her to a safer locale at the moment, but there the intelligence was, on the desk, displayed for everyone to see. Scout once questioned his Fearless Leader, wondering why she didn't just take the intelligence with her to her "Safer Locale". The answer was twofold:

1) The safer locale wouldn't BE safe if the intelligence was with her, and

2) If the group couldn't defend it where it was, then they weren't worth the money and lodgings they were given.

Scout took that without any more questions (as her cold, cutting words left no room for addition), but he still felt a little strange. Something about her seemed…

A sound! Scout immediately moved to a corner and tried his best to hide in the shadows like Spy tended to do. He didn't think that maybe the enemy spy could see through stuff like that, he just hoped that the enemy spy was…

Wait, that wasn't the enemy spy! It was RED's Spy! "Well?" Spy said, "Scout? Are you here?"

"Uhm, uh… What's the capital of Massachusetts?" Scout asked, sneaking from the shadows.

The man frowned lightly, "Boston. Find a better question to ask, Scout. That one's way too easy," Spy replied. Scout sighed at his remark; it was the only one he actually knew the answer to… "Besides, your blood is still on my suit, see?" It was true; the same stains littered the front of his pinstripe suit. There was no doubt that he was RED Spy that backstabbed the Soldier but a few minutes ago, "But anyway, no one came?"

"No," Scout admitted with a shrug, "You think he got caught by Engineer's sentry?"

"I would doubt it. He's good at stabbing and sapping," Spy replied. Scout blanched. Engineer was his best friend! He reminded Scout of his favorite elder brother! "But you needn't worry. Most likely he simply avoided the thing altogether."

"I sure hope so," Scout said, "So have the BLUs been kicked out?"

"They're routed, alright. I killed that Soldier, you got their Medic, and I heard the Heavy fell after he went into a rage. Snapped our Demoman in half before he was fried by our Pyro though."

"I really liked him…" Scout said softly.

"I think we all did, but war has casualties. That's just the way it is. So, are you going to bed?"

"Mmm, I think I'm going to stay up a while longer. I don't want you to have to fight your counterpart. He can't get behind me!"

"Indeed," Spy said quietly. He rested against the wall of the room as Scout settled down in his corner. Spy fidgeted and checked his watch, but he seemed alert of the place.

"Hey Spy?" Scout said to break the silence. Spy twitched lightly, but Scout couldn't help but smile, "Thanks for saving me, by the way."

"…Don't know why I did…"

Scout blinked at the wistful words that came from Spy's mouth, "Huh?"

Spy didn't speak. He simply drew his revolver and pointed it at Scout. The Bostonian retaliated by raising his gun and cocking it, but something told him to stop. This was Spy, this was one of his brothers! "Yo, man, what's going on?" Scout asked, "Th-this ain't funny."

"I'm sorry for this," Spy said in a tone that said he wasn't sorry at all, "but I have no time to baby sit you any longer. I need you to go to sleep."

It all happened in a moment. Scout acted first and fired but Spy dodged with a flourish and fired his revolver once, twice, thrice. The Bostonian dropped to the floor, clutching the bullet wounds in his chest, "For your information, Child, I never really was on your side."

Scout writhed on the floor with a burning sensation in his chest. He heard the man collect the briefcase and escape silently from the room. The young man didn't want to believe it, but it was true. He was betrayed by his own friend, and that knowledge hurt even more than the bullets that had struck him before. He attempted to stand, but he barely pushed himself up with his hand before he lost all energy and dropped back to the floor.

Darkness surrounded him.

The End...?

---

I have other stuff written out now for this, but I'm not sure if I can finish it. I have other stuff to do. So until I finish at least the rough draft, I'm going to keep this here as the "ending". So you get to live with sadness for an ending. Sorry...


	4. The End and the Beginning

I finished the first draft and I said I'd continue it if I did so. This went over so many changes over the time. Hopefully you'll appreciate what work I put into this, maggots!

Hahaha, thanks for reading this, everyone. It means a lot to me.

so READ ON, please!

---

_"Hey Spy?"_

_"What did I tell you about following me everywhere?"_

_"Come on, you're not even in disguise."_

_"Best not to get in the habit."_

_"We're not even fighting right now!"_

_"See Previous Answer." Scout huffed in anger and sat down at the top of the courtyard. He swung his legs, watching Spy lean against the wall and take a long drag from his cigarette. After a moment, he flicked it away and picked another one from his case. "Well, what is it? I don't have all day."_

_"I dunno," Scout said with a shrug. Spy twitched at the utter idiocy of his teammate, and Scout laughed aloud at the buttons he was pressing. "Come on, Spy," the Bostonian guffawed, "Lighten up!"_

_"What do you want?" Spy demanded once again. His tone said that he would not ask again._

_"Well, you said you'd teach me about how to go spying today, right?"_

_"Did I?" Spy asked nonchalantly, looking away with feigned ignorance._

_"Cummon, man! You said you'd do it! How do you sneak around without making any sounds, anyway?"_

_"First, I don't wear cleats. Honestly."_

_Scout opened his mouth to reply, but thought against it and looked down at his shoes, "But these cleats help me run faster outside…" he said lowly. He sounded sad that he couldn't wear his favorite shoes around the place if he wanted to be sneaky like Spy._

_"Also, I don't run as fast as you, and I am better at acting the part of the enemy, and I can't capture points or push carts as fast as you, and…"_

_"Alright alright, I get it!" Scout groaned, flailing in anger, "We're completely different, but that doesn't mean I can't borrow some tricks from you! Here, lemme borrow your cloaking device. It'll be so cool to be able to…"_

_"Absolutely not!" Spy interrupted the Bostonian, grinding his cigarette on his molars, "No one touches my watch. No one."_

_"Come on, Spy," Scout pleaded with an impish grin, "You can trust me with it, I won't break it or anything."_

_Spy didn't seem all that convinced, "Can I trust you with it?" he muttered to himself rather than Scout._

_"Of course you can!" Scout beamed at the European, "After all, we're friends, right?"_

_Spy didn't say a word. He stared at Scout, and licked the tips of his top incisors, "Friends," he repeated, as if the word were foreign to him._

_"You know, amigos?"_

_"I know what it means," Spy said bluntly, twitching from Scout's butchering of the word's proper accent, "But the question still remains. Are you my friend?"_

_Scout opened his mouth to reply, but Spy had already tapped a button on his watch and disappeared from both sight and the conversation. He left Scout alone to ponder his words in silence._

---

"Mein Gott, zey did a number on him, didn't zey…?"

"But he'll be okay, right Doc?"

"Puleeez, az if I could not handle a vound zat minor…"

"Ya call THAT minor?"

"I call it vatever I vant. And az you can see, zere vas no need for fear; he's already avake."

Scout groaned lightly and blinked lightly. He could barely think straight; and the world came out fuzzy to him. Medic pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his middle finger, "Vell? How do you feel?"

"Uhhh…?" Scout groaned, trying to regain cognizant functions.

"Status report, MAGGOT!" Scout gave a scream when Soldier thrust his face into the young man's view, "What the hell happened down there? You've got THREE SECONDS to answer, you filthy piece of…!"

"Calm yerself there, Mate," came a voice from Scout's right, from behind Medic, "'e's not really in a position ta tell us anythin'."

"We need to know what happened NOW," Soldier hissed, "How did we lose it?"

"Lose… what…?" Scout blubbered.

"The Intelligence, Boy," Engineer came into view from behind Soldier, "You were in the room. Who took it?"

"Why didn't you stop him!?" Soldier demanded.

"The fact that he was bleedin' from multiple orifices tells you that the boy wasn't doin' 'is level best?" Engineer asked.

Before the group could get into a fight, Scout immediately sat up in bed. He remembered the turn of events from before he fell unconscious! "It was BLU's Spy, you guys! He… he tricked me. Guys, I'm so sorry, I…"

"BLU's Zpy…?" Medic blinked. All eyes were on him, "Zat can't be true… You remember zat Uber I charged mysteriously fazt three days ago?" His glasses glinted and he smiled sinisterly, licking his lips. Everyone stared at the man for a few moments.

Engineer was the first to retrieve his brain after the explanation, "So he's been pushin' daisies for the past few days? But Scout saw a spah, right?" the Texan asked, "Ya think maybe they got a new one?"

"I doubt it," the voice from behind Medic (that Scout now recognized as Sniper) said, "None o' them have left that base. There ain't any way they could've gotten a new one hired, trained, or anythin'."

There was silence for a moment, and Solder suddenly straightened up from his vantage point (which was glaring at Scout in the face), "Hey Engie, where the hell is our Spy?" The silence that continued was painful, and the two men stared at each other. "Dauuggh No!"

"Razzin' Frazzin' Dammit DAGNABIT!" Engineer shouted in anger. Medic admonished the two for causing a ruckus in the med bay as they rushed to search the compound for their missing "teammate".

"Medic?" Scout muttered, looking up at the German as he turned and went to find the boy some anesthetic, "What… what's going on?"

"I always told ya, Kid…" Sniper muttered quietly, "Ya never shoulda trusted that fancy bloody wuss…"

"No," Scout murmured, staring at his sheets and curling his hands into fists, "He was… he was like a…"

"Bloke's a spy. Sswhat they do."

"Not THAT Spy!" Scout shouted, flailing in anger, "He-he promised me he'd teach me how to play mind tricks on the BLUs! It… What the HELL!?"

"If you continue to move, you'll reopen your vounds," Medic said nonchalantly as he reentered the room with a tray holding bottles of various medicines and syringes to be filled with said medicines, "Az much as I love to stitch you back togezer, you vould do vell to shut your mouth before I stitch zat clozed az vell. Zere are ozers in zis ward too, you know."

Oh yeah, Sniper had been shot at. That was probably why he was in the ward at the moment. "Hey Sniper," the Bostonian turned to his friend and asked, "So, how are you…?" The young man cut his question short and simply stared.

RED's Sniper was staring blankly at the wall across from his bed. He seemed alright aside from the bandages that were wrapped tightly across his chest and around his forearm, but that wasn't what made Scout stare. Sniper's eyes were covered with gauze, and the worst part was that they were still red with his blood.

"Holy- Damn, man, what happened?"

"Shrapnel. You'd think that dodgin' the splash was all I had ta do," Sniper replied stoically, "managed ta keep from getting struck, but the blast tore my cover apart. Some o' the rubble barely missed my heart. Guess that's a little lucky, right?"

"But… your eyes!"

"Worthless."

"What the HELL? But-but-but-but how does a Sniper shoot without eyes!?"

He shrugged lightly, "'e doesn't, Mate."

"But…!"

"Mein Gott, if I hear you zay 'but' vahn more time I vill tear your vocal chords out myzelf," Medic hissed, "Now, ztop movink so I can give you your aneszthetic."

"Hell no! Get away from me, you freako!" Scout shouted, "I ain't going to sit here all drugged up while our Spy gets away with our intelligence and the BLUs don't get payback for what they've done!"

"Scout, zere is nozink to do. Zit ztill so I can heal you. Zee lazt zing I vant is to get yelled at by zee Zoldier for not healink you. I vould very much like to zee you out of zis ward, but…"

"Then see ya, asshole!" Scout shouted, tossing his covers into Medic's face. The German growled at the insolence, but the young man was already out of bed, reapplying his dog tags, and rushing from the room.

"And don't come back, filthy Schweinhund!!" Medic practically shouted with a shake of his fist. He was madder at losing a pincushion than losing a patient. With a hiss, he threw the covers off of him and he tossed them back on the bed. Silence permeated through the room as he stared after Scout. Finally, Medic readjusted his glasses and turned to tend to Sniper, who hadn't moved an inch since he arrived, "So, how are you feelink?"

"A little better," Sniper said emotionlessly.

"You don't zound it," Medic replied as he checked his syringe to make sure he would administer the proper amount.

"Ya heard the kid, right? Gunna get the intelligence back, come hell or high water."

"I heard. He vill die before he doez anyzink."

"You remember what's gunna happen when the shiela finds out we've lost the intel, right?"

"You von't need to vorry, you'll be heading home…" Medic suddenly stopped his alcoholic swabbing and thought about what he was saying, "...And if you are headink home, zen you von't get paid any…"

"And if the kid manages to bring back not only our intel but the BLU's as well, before Miss Announcer finds out?"

Medic stared at Sniper, and suddenly a smile played on his lips for the first time in weeks, "Zentimental Dummkopf," he muttered lightly as he pricked the Australian. But now the German knew exactly why Sniper felt a little better.

They were both sentimental lost causes.

Sniper took a moment to rest as the medicine kicked in, and the German stared at the man who had done his best to give his medic cover when the German was rushing about no man's land. There were plenty of times he would have found himself dead if it weren't for the Australian.

And the BLUs had lost much of their offense this day… if the REDs pushed as hard as they could, they had a chance… And Sniper could return home with enough money to keep himself from being too much of a burden on his family…

"Mein Gott…" Medic hissed as he moved to change into a clean outfit. He adjusted his tie, snapped his new latex gloves in place, and stalked from the ward, Medigun in hand, "I'm gettink to be az zentimental az zee rest of zee dummkopfs…"

To Be Continued...

---

Hope you enjoyed it! Send a review my way and tell me what you thought of it!


	5. The Suicide Mission

I'm trying to remember what I wanted to say here, aside from "I'll probably upload this every Wednesday until the end."

Oh yes, this is also the first story that I've uploaded HERE first instead of my DA account.

Hurray?

Hope you guys enjoy it.

READ ON!

---

"Doktor, there you are!" Medic retained his aloof nature as Heavy trotted to his side. It was a little disconcerting to see what was left of their forces standing around where a few pipe bombs could take them all out, but their enemy lost a lot of their forces too. He doubted they'd attack now, so he relaxed and listened to Heavy continue, "Little Scout has been talking about getting Intelligence back. What will we do?"

"Vat vill vee do indeed?" Medic replied, looking at the few stragglers that were left. Scout smiled lightly, standing next to their Pyro, who stood a good foot above the lithe Bostonian. At his side was Engineer, who was frowning in thought, and Medic counted both he and Heavy. However, there was one that was missing… "Vere is our Zoldier?"

"He went to go pick up our 'Fearless Leader' and bring her back so she can 'lead' us," Scout replied, announcing their leader's title and job in finger quotes, "He said he'd do his best to stall her though. We need to get the intel back here before she notices it's been taken!"

Medic practically glared at the young man; he knew what was going to happen. "Zis vill be a suicide mission, you realize. Very few if any ov uz vill return." Scout realized the ramifications of his plan; not everyone was going to die for something silly as revenge, especially when it came to Medic and his desire to keep himself from feeling pain. He lasted an entire month without being shot and Scout assumed he didn't want to lose that streak anytime soon. The Bostonian blinked, however, when Medic leaned forward and glowered down at the young man. "Vell? Are you villing to lead uz all to our deathz?"

"Medic…?"

"Heavy needs money for sandviches! Heavy needs intelligence for money!" It really was a no-brainer, even for someone like Heavy.

"I really can't take the time to set up anything spectacular in such a short amount of time…" Engineer muttered to himself, "But I'll do what I kin back here. You boys give 'em hell, 'lright?"

"Mmph? Phphmmph Phmphhphmmmph." Pyro explained with a shrug of his/her shoulders.

"I'm not doing thiz for you," Medic said bluntly, although from the tone, it appeared he was doing it for someone. "I'm not doing it for any reason ozzer zan zee fact zat those BLUs have been a thorn in our zide from zee beginnink. Zo let'z zlaughter vat'z left ov zem, ja?"

Scout looked at everyone, and he shut his eyes tight, trying not to let the emotions well up within him. His brothers were here, ready to help him through everything they were to face. His brothers-in-arms were ready to fight to the death alongside him, and the mere thought nearly brought tears to his eyes. He controlled himself, however (of course!), and he gave them all a thumbs up. "H… hell yeah! Let's do this, everyone!"

Those who remained nodded at each other in affirmation, steeled themselves, and prepared for one last assault on their enemy's base. Win or lose, they were going to give it their all.

---

Scout frowned lightly as the group stood outside of BLU's base. "It's quiet…" Scout whispered, clutching his scattergun close to him, "…too quiet…"

"No it's not," Medic admonished the young man, "If memory serves, zere's only like four BLUs left in zee compound, not counting our little traitor…"

"Three. It's just enemy Engineer, Demoman and Scout," Heavy said suddenly. Medic opened his mouth to tell Heavy off, but then blinked. He turned to the Russian with wide eyes. The huge man actually KNEW something correct? Perhaps all of those sandviches helped his memory as well as his fighting prowess…

"But still, if we want to all make it out of here alive, we'll have to be careful," Scout said, trying in vain to sound like a real leader instead of a kid who was winging the entire thing, "I know that when Spy and I got in here last time, we found that the BLU Engineer set up right next to the entrance. What do we do?"

"Vee charge zem," Medic said matter-of-factly. Scout turned to him in fear, and the "good" doctor smirked devilishly, "You don't zink I vould go on zis zuicide mission vitout preparing a charge beforehand? Pyro, just give zee vord, and vee vill light zee baze from zee inzide out."

Something suddenly changed in Pyro's demeanor. S/he straightened up and held his/her flamethrower upright and ready for action. The sun even glinted off his/her mask. S/he transformed from a creature that skulked in the corners of darkness to a pillar of light that lead the way to victory. Scout couldn't help but be in awe at just how cool s/he looked! Pyro gave Medic a thumbs up, and prepared for the strike, "Mmphph? Mmph…"

Scout opened his mouth, but Medic clutched his medigun tightly, and Scout knew to keep silent for the moment.

"Mphfff…"

Heavy fought his desire to ask Medic to take him instead. He trusted the German's judgment with his partners too well to ask him to change now. The Russian knew that Medic was going with Pyro because it was for the best, but that didn't mean Heavy liked it even a little bit.

Pyro raised his/her flamethrower, and rushed forward with a scream, "Mmphpphmph!!"

Scout and Heavy watched with baited breath as the two shone with the light of the sun, and in an instant, they were gone through the entrance to the enemy base. There was the sound of fire, bullets, missiles, and explosions. Scout cringed when he heard the muffled roaring of Pyro and the vibrant cackle of Medic, and he waited.

His heart restarted when the ten seconds were up, and the sound of the charge disappearing into the wind became apparent. He turned to Heavy, and blinked when he saw that the Russian had disappeared, rushing inside to check on the two. Scout followed Heavy inside, and whistled at the sight.

Everything had been melted down to basic lumps of metal. Scout stared at the still flaming lumps, and he looked at Pyro, who was cackling happily. "Man, that was amazing, you guys!" Scout congratulated the two.

"Pyro and Doktor did good!" Heavy proclaimed. He moved to pull them into a hug and it took the two of them to push him away.

The three calmed down and Scout thought for a moment, inspecting the destruction, and suddenly a light appeared over his head, "Wait! Where's the body?"

"Mmph…?" Pyro asked.

"You know," Scout looked around as he continued, "where's the Engineer's body? You guys fried him… right?" Pyro cocked his/her head in thought. "Do either of you know where he is…?" The question barely escaped Scout's lips when something appeared from the dark corners of BLU's base. The young man looked up, and a warning sprang from Scout. Medic blinked at the young man's shout…

Everything happened so quickly that not even the Bostonian could stop it, but everything seemed to move so slowly. BLU's Engineer came out of the shadows, and Medic turned in question with saw in hand. He turned quickly enough that instead of the metal wrench connecting with the back of his head, it only slammed into his temple, and Scout screamed his friend's "name" as the German literally flew into the wall.

Pyro retaliated with unrestrained fury as Heavy screamed for the Medic and rushed to his partner's side. The Engineer's head went flying, and Pyro stood before the trembling body, axe in hand.

"Doktor! Doktor…!!" Heavy roared, inspecting the limp body. Medic was unmoving, and there was blood trickling from his nose and mouth, "Doktor! Doktor, speak to Heavy!"

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit…!" Scout cried, "Oh god…! Medic, Doc, cummon man, pull yourself together!"

Pyro gave the others a muffled shout, and Scout whirled around to stare at BLU's Demoman. Sticky bombs flew in a magnificent arc towards them, and Scout knew immediately to leap under the arcs to avoid their landing position. Pyro dove out of the way, and Scout heard the sticky bombs explode; he felt the explosion rocket him towards the Demoman. He brought his whiskey bottle up as Scout shortened the distance between them, and he parried the metal bat with the bottle. It shattered under the force and Scout sputtered at the glass and whiskey that he was showered with.

BLU's Demoman took the time that Scout was occupied to cut him to ribbons with his broken bottle, but Pyro was upon them in a flash. Scout scrambled backwards as Pyro lit up what whiskey had fallen on Demoman. The enemy exploded and was reduced to a charred corpse. Pyro shouldered his/her flamethrower with a snort, then turned to Scout and asked how he was doing.

"Doing? Doing!?" the young man screamed in horror, shaking his hat to get rid of the whiskey. He chucked his now useless headphone and microphone over his shoulder and reapplied his hat. "I'm cut up an' covered in this shit and you nearly caught me on fire, you freakish monster! What the hell, man, it's not like we're just somehow able to keep each other from hurting our teammates! The world doesn't work like that!"

One could have fooled Pyro about that little tidbit.

Scout shook himself out a little bit and suddenly remembered that they were missing someone. "Heavy!" the Bostonian shouted. He turned and his eyes widened.

Pyro shook his/her head and prepared to cremate the bodies. Scout rushed up to the corpse, his jaw dropped in horror, "But… but why? Why would he protect Medic's body? He was dead; Heavy could've just avoided the bombs!"

Pyro looked up at Scout and shook his/her head. S/he looked back down, and Scout reeled, "The shit? He's still alive!?" It was true; the medic who had just been bludgeoned in the temple a moment ago was still breathing. Pyro looked back at Scout, as if s/he weren't sure what to do.

"Look, I don't think I can carry him, he's too heavy," Scout said, "But we can't leave him here, or he'll die, and Heavy's sacrifice will be in vain. But he was hit in the head!" Scout looked at the floor in sadness, "You think… you think even if he does wake up, that he'll ever be the Medic we knew?"

Pyro stared in thought, and convinced him/herself that it would be best. With his/her flamethrower shouldered, s/he tenderly took Medic and stood up. S/he nodded at Scout, and the Bostonian sighed. "Fine, do what you want. I need to stop our… the Spy… from stealing our intel. If you can, though, come back and catch up with me, alright? I know how much you like ta roast spies!"

Pyro nodded, "Mmph!" and with that, s/he turned around and was gone. Scout stared off after Pyro for a moment, and suddenly he remembered that he was alone in an enemy base with no one around but his supposed clone and a traitor who still had his intelligence.

Scout steeled himself and rushed forward without fear.

To Be Continued...

---

Hope you enjoyed it! Send a review my way!


	6. The Climax

I really don't know what to say here. Sorry...

Either way, READ ON!

---

"_What are you doing in here?"_

"_I'm not tired."_

"_My room does not have an open door policy. Out."_

"_You're not tired either, are you?" Scout sat on the foot of Spy's bed as the European pored over a book that looked thick enough to give the Bostonian a headache. The room smelled of smoke, but he had hung around Spy long enough to be fairly used to it by then, and he really wasn't going to avoid his best friend just because of a minor annoyance. Besides, many doctors and nurses talked about all the wonders of the cigarette; maybe he could get some mystical healing powers from the smoke? He could call it something cool, like second hand smoke, or something like that!_

_On second thought, that was a stupid idea. Scout shook his head and kicked his feet lightly, "But I just wanted to talk a bit. Is that alright?"_

"_If you leave me alone later…" Spy replied dangerously._

"_Heh, thanks," Scout said. Spy didn't even respond. He just flipped a page and refused to look at his teammate. "Spy, I wanted to know. You were talking about our differences. But we're the same too! We're both good for scouting and reeko… something."_

"_Reconnaissance."_

"_Yeah, that."_

"_You honestly don't understand a thing, Scout. You are nothing like me. You are no spy. Stop assuming that you can…"_

"_Oh yeah?" Scout interrupted in exasperation, "then prove it! What do you do that's so different from me?"_

_Spy sighed and removed his tiny reading spectacles. After placing them away, he turned and frowned at his "guest". "You are good at going in and getting out to tell others about what's in there. I, on the other hand, need to stay in the base and find out the enemy's weaknesses."_

"_Weaknesses?"_

"_You don't honestly expect me to charge in like some addlebrained buffoon, screaming obscenities and shooting wildly at the first thing that moves, of course," Spy said. Scout shrugged. "Of course. Besides, how many times has Medic Ubercharged me? Think about that carefully."_

_Scout humored Spy, and took a moment to think about what the European had told him. He then blinked and spoke up again, "Well, didn't he Kritz you that one time?"_

_There was silence for a moment, and Spy's expression told Scout that he was not amused, "That is an entirely different story altogether."_

"_But he DID Kritz you, right?"_

"_The point is…!" Scout tried not to let his amusement become too apparent as Spy continued his explanation, "Once I find the enemy weaknesses, we can destroy them easily. It's much quicker and less bloody to destroy the enemy from the inside out than vice versa, wouldn't you say?"_

"_I guess," Scout agreed, crossing his arms and knitting his brows in thought. There was a moment of silence, and then Scout turned back to Spy, "But what if the enemy has no weaknesses?"_

_Spy scoffed. "Everyone has weaknesses."_

"_I know I do. I'm just too fast!" Scout proclaimed with a wide smile and cocky expression._

_Spy glared at him through half banked eyes. "Indeed, you never look before you leap. You'd do well to remember you're not immortal."_

"_Yeah, well…" Scout tried to make the subject stop focusing on him, and he smiled at Spy. "So, what's your weakness?"_

_Spy tensed visibly. Those words put up a cold wall around him, and he shut down the conversation immediately. "I was wrong," he said quickly, "everyone has weaknesses except for _me_."_

"_Oh, come on! You can tell me! I told you mine!" Spy refused to acknowledge Scout's existence, and he reapplied his glasses and went back to his musty old tome, "What's your weakness? We're friends, you can tell me!"_

"_Friends." Spy stopped. He didn't look up from the book, but Scout felt that he wasn't going to talk much about it. The way he said the word dripped with venom; the Bostonian wondered if he should just drop the subject and leave. He looked up when Spy spoke again, "…So, we're friends? Friends…"_

"…_tell their friends stuff. They trust their friends."_

_Spy seemed to spend a moment to register the information, and then he pushed his reading glasses up his nose and returned to his book, "Then no, we aren't friends."_

_Spy ignored Scout for the rest of the night, until the Bostonian slunk from the room. Scout wondered what to make of what Spy said as he went back to his own room._

"We aren't friends…"

_Was that… was that true…?_

---

Scout berated himself for not noticing the signs sooner. He didn't want to believe it; he really didn't. The others, the eight, they were like his brothers, and he was losing them all, just like last time…

The basement buzzed and beeped. The base attempted to look normal above ground, but the moment one stepped into the basement, all disguises disappeared. There was a wide assortment of computers large enough to fill entire rooms (state-of-the-art, of course!) and meeting rooms that were usually used for their Fearless Leader and her prospective intelligence buyers. Scout ignored all of it and jogged straight through. He had to be quick, but he didn't want to run into an ambush! There was nothing worse than rounding a corner straight into the muzzle of a scattergun.

…Although it was fun to watch the brains of someone else running into his scattergun's muzzle fly expertly through the air…

Scout checked around the corner, found that nothing was in the intelligence room, and he clomped into the room. Something was immediately out of place; the attaché cases were just sitting on the desk. Where was their leader? Wasn't she supposed to take it somewhere else? He assumed that Spy would be hiding somewhere, which was why he kept his back to the wall, but if both of the intelligence cases were just sitting there, couldn't he just take them back? He would have to be quick, or…

The humming of the computers wasn't loud enough to drown out the sound of footsteps next to Scout. He whipped up his bat, but his wrist was caught by an invisible force. A red hand flashed and disappeared again from the impact, and with a sudden jerk, Scout felt the invisible hand wrench his wrist roughly. Scout cried out and the bat dropped from his hand. Another fluid motion sent Scout's face into the wall, and his arm was twisted behind his back and upwards. The young man bit back a pained shout and instead cursed at his ineptitude, "So that's it then? Game over?" he asked the force behind him.

"Did I say that…?" RED's former Spy said calmly as he flashed into vision. Scout was able to watch his captor out of the corner of his eye, and stared as the European searched himself. He cursed lowly. "Merde, I seemed to have forgotten to bring rope with me…"

"Why are you keeping me alive?" Scout hissed, flailing only for a moment. Spy twisted his arm and the young man stopped his fidgeting. "Just kill me, you're the enemy now! The enemy doesn't let his enemies live!"

"And that is where you're wrong, Scout," Spy said lightly as he fiddled with his belt buckle with his free hand. Scout's mind exploded with expletives and questions.

"Holy shit what the fuck!? The hell are you doing!?"

Spy stared at the young man's wide eye, and gave him a blank stare as he whipped off his belt, "Is that the one thing you can think of?" the European asked with a frown as he worked to tie his former teammate's hands together with the ersatz rope. He even poked a new hole to tighten the belt as harshly as he could. "You children are all the same. You don't think tactically, always grasping at conclusions and leaping before you look." Spy blew a plume of smoke purposefully in Scout's face, making the young man cough. Spy smirked widely as he placed his cigarette back in his mouth. "Although, is that secretly what you wanted…?"

"Burn in Hell, you freakin' asshole!"

The traitor chuckled, and the low sound made Scout shudder. It sounded exactly like his laughter when he won another hand from Heavy. It reminded Scout that this was indeed the same Spy that he had laughed with and chased after and fought alongside. It tore him up inside that this was the same Spy that…! He struggled against his enemy, but he ended up crashing to the floor instead. He moved to get back up, but he felt European grind his shoe in between the Bostonian's shoulder blades. Scout twitched and pressed his cheek against the cold floor, attempting in vain to look up at the man as he nonchalantly made sure his revolver was in working condition. "Why…?" he managed to sputter, "Spy, why are you doing this…?"

"Now Child, if you think for a moment, it's really not all so hard to figure out…" Spy muttered, wiping his gun off and snorting a plume of smoke through his nostrils, "The BLUs have a leader as well. It's almost obvious. She's not here, so I'm waiting."

"And I'm…?"

"It's hard to defect to the other side, especially as a Spy." He pointed the gun down at Scout's head, and he smiled when he felt the young man tense below him, "You're going to be my leverage. If I kill you in front of her, she'll have no choice but to trust me…"

Scout didn't want to accept that he was scared, but his heart was beating a million times a second. At least, that's what it felt like to him. He tried to think of something he could do or say to get him to think for a moment. The only thing he could do was talk… "So that's why you shot me back at the base… You… you knew that of all our… my teammates, I'd be the most likely to get down here…"

"And…?"

"…and I'm always jumping to conclusions. I'm always leaping forward, rushing to take revenge without thinking."

"There you go, Scout," Spy said, "That wasn't so hard to figure out, now was it?"

"So all this time, you were planning this the whole time!? For what!?"

"What else? Remember that last time you got the intelligence? I was amazed to find their recorded income and output sandwiched in there. Do you realize how much they were paying their Spies? And to think they had just lost theirs a few days ago…"

"You're betraying us for money!?"

"There's no better reason to betray one's teammates, is there?"

"You piece of SHIT!" Scout screamed, flailing under the man, "How could you!? I _trusted_ you!"

"And that was your first mistake, now wasn't it?" Spy tossed his cigarette butt away and placed another in his mouth. "What did I tell you about weaknesses, Scout? If you find the person's weakness, you can tear him down without a shot."

Oh yeah, right! Weaknesses! Scout stared at the traitor as he let his guard down for only a moment; his new cigarette needed lighting, after all. Scout racked his head for weaknesses that this Spy, his former friend, could have. What could he do to beat Spy when all the odds were against the Bostonian? Dammit, his feet ran faster than his mind, why couldn't it have involved something like a race? Would have solved that problem right there. Except that one time Billy Joe cheated during the race and tripped him up so he only got in second. Man did his brothers beat the shit out of that cheater for his stupidity!

Wait, what was he thinking about again?

Oh, right! Spy! Dammit! The young man racked his brain, but the only thing he could remember was that Spy had said he didn't have any weaknesses. But everyone had weaknesses… right…?

"_I was wrong, everyone has weaknesses except for _me_."_

"_We're friends, you can tell me!"_

"_Friends."_

"…_Friends tell their friends stuff. They trust their friends…"_

…

"…_Then no, we aren't friends."_

Scout stared at the wall in front of him. That was it! Spy did have a weakness! Spy didn't have any friends. He didn't trust anyone… "And… you're going to just shoot me in cold blood, right in front of their sick as hell leader?"

"I thought we had already established this."

"You sure that's a good idea…?" Scout wasn't sure where he was going with this, but he had to do something quickly. His life and the wellbeing of his brothers were on the line! "I mean… why are you going to get her to trust you? What makes you think she'll let you live after you kill me? She could just… kill you and have our… my intelligence!"

Scout didn't know what he was saying, but Spy seemed to buy it. He leaned down on the leg that held Scout down, and the Bostonian tried not to let the crushing of his lungs become too apparent on his face. "You think I haven't figured that out? Do you honestly think anyone has a better shot than I or the Sniper? Oh wait… he can't see anymore, can he?" It took everything he could to keep from breaking down and cursing his enemy out for that remark, but he was able to bite his tongue back as Spy continued. "I can shoot anyone down and return to the group if it should come to that. I'm sure I could give them a slick tongued excuse: 'oh, I never fired on the young Scout. We were good friends, no? We fought bravely to return this intelligence, but unfortunately he was unable to dodge that bullet to the head.'"

Scout wanted to remind Spy that no one could ever headshot him when he was running about, but he had more important things to worry about than excuses that would be told after his death. Tricking Spy was the number one priority… "You really think that'll work? You don't see, do you? They… their leader is…" something sprang from his mouth before he could think, "their leader is our Fearless Leader!"

Silence. "Wh…what did you say…?" Spy said. He had a look that showed he really could care less about what Scout was saying, but his tone belied his expression.

"Ehhh…" Scout suddenly realized that this was the best time to leap before he looked. Whatever he was saying, Spy was eating it up like candy. "Ehhh-Exactly what I said! Our Fearless Leader is also their Fearless Leader! If you kill her and return to ours, she won't exist anymore! And poof, no money at all!"

"What are you talking about?" Spy hissed, "That can't be true, you're just…"

"…Why isn't she here then, huh? Huh!?" Scout shouted. It was scary that the more the spoke, the more Scout wondered if what he was saying was really the truth. "Because she's over at our base right now, talking with Soldier! Why do we never see her when they're pushing forward, but always see her when she's giving orders and pushing us ahead? Offing me won't get you a cent! She'll kill you for finding out her secret and keep all of the money for herself!"

Spy took a moment to think this over, and frowned deeply in thought. "You wouldn't help me now and warn me of danger. You would rather die than assist a traitor." He pointed his revolver downward… and brought it back up. "But you would say anything to keep your skin. You American pigs know nothing of tight lips."

Scout stared in amazement as Spy lifted his foot from the Bostonian's back and moved to the desk where the two cases sat, "…and if I take them both… the money they're worth must be more than I could ever gain shooting you." He reached out and placed his gloved hands on the cases with a devious smirk. "Yes… yes, this could work in my favor…"

Scout squirmed where he now sat. He could stand, but running was out of the question, as he needed the intelligence. However, he couldn't fight Spy with his hands tied behind his back. _Just need to… work at the… belt…_

"However…" Spy muttered as he grasped the two cases, hefting one across his back and the other in his hand, "I simply can't leave you behind. You'll squeal like a stool pigeon the moment someone makes you talk…" He lifted his revolver and turned to Scout. "And so, I must ask you to… die…?"

The Bostonian was gone! Spy hissed in annoyance, and whirled around when he heard a voice, "Ya know, funny thing." He lifted his bloodied hands; his bandages falling away from strain. "These things are useful for more than just handling my guns. Makes my wrists larger than they should be. And now…" he lifted his scattergun, "YOU, Spy, get to die."

Spy disappeared in a flash of red, intelligence and all.

"Oh, come on!" Scout shouted, firing wildly through the room, "Dammit, come out! Come out and die for once, you stupid freaking asshole! I beat you and your little mind games, and now I…! Oh shit, where is he?"

He was so busy screaming that he didn't even hear the footsteps of Spy. Was he still in the room? Had he run off? He drew up his pistol and rushed out. He didn't want to lose the intelligence, but running blindly after Spy was an ambush waiting to happen. Nevertheless, he needed to catch up to Spy, and he ran headlong out of the room, into the hallway, around a corner, and he saw the two attaché cases lying on the floor just across from the room. Dammit, Spy was using it as bait. If he rushed up to the cases, he'd be backstabbed immediately.

Scout thought himself pretty smart. He rushed up to the intelligence and whirled around, ready to unload as much lead as he could into the Spy hiding around the corner.

Except he wasn't there.

"Peekaboo…" Spy said, appearing over the cases. He lifted his knife as Scout whirled around, and the world lagged for what seemed like an eternity.

Scout looked up as the European brought his knife down to stab the young man through the face, and the Bostonian reacted quickly. He flinched to the side and cried out as the knife cut through his left shoulder. He brought his pistol up and fired quickly with one hand. The whiplash was incredible for his young body with only one hand, but he only needed one shot.

Spy stumbled back and slammed into the wall. His eyes were wide with surprise. With trembling fingers, he lifted his hand and brought it over his heart, where blood flowed freely. He looked up at the frightened Scout, whose mouth opened and closed like a beached fish, "Lucky… crit, eh…?"

"Spy!? SPY!!" Scout threw his pistol away and reached out to catch his friend. Spy crashed to the ground and Scout shook him over and over. "Spy Spy please don't die Spy please! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! Please don't die, please!"

"I suppose… you were right… Scout…" Spy said through a smile, "You said… you said we weren't any different, and your mind… your quick thinking… Just like my little protégé…"

"Don't talk. Maybe if we get you back we can save you! Spy…!"

"I suppose… I shouldn't… worry about the REDs now, with you around… You just… shouldn't be so attached to… fodgkkh…" Spy coughed blood onto his glove and let out a rather heavy sigh, "Thank you… for proving me wrong, my Friend…"

"Spy? Spy…!" Scout shook the man, but he didn't respond. The man, the man he looked up to for so long…! Scout stared at the body, and he grabbed his own head. He didn't care if there was an enemy Scout in the compound; he screamed until his vocal chords died and he couldn't scream anymore. Spy called him… Spy called him his friend…

It only hurt him to know that Spy only thought of him as a friend when he was being hunted by the European…

He turned slowly when a hand was placed on his shoulder, and he looked up at RED's Soldier, his brother… "You did good, Kid."

"I don't feel good," Scout whispered hoarsely. He sunk further into a ball and whispered, "…the enemy Scout?"

"Ran. Along with their leader, 'pparently. Place is empty aside from us. Good thing too, I'dda hate to have to gib them," he lied. The two sat in silence for a moment, letting Scout try to take everything in. Eventually, though, the man sighed and grasped the Bostonian's good arm, lifting him to his feet. The Bostonian stood dazedly as one of the cases was thrust into his hands, and Soldier pointed upward, "Come on, Kid. Let's get out of here."

"What about Spy? And Heavy…? And…"

"We'll see what we can do about them later, but for now, let's get back to the base."

Scout didn't argue with Soldier, but before he left the basement, he took one last look at Spy. He shouldn't have been surprised that the European looked his most peaceful in death, but he was. He had always fought alongside his brothers; he just assumed everyone was at their happiest when they were with comrades and brothers-in-arms. He supposed he was wrong…

Scout was silent all the way back to the base.

---

One last bit and it'll be the end~!


	7. The End

ENDING DEAD AHEAD.

LAWL DEAD. Hahaha because almost everyone in this story's dead. Oh man I kill me.

HAHAHAHA, ANOTHER DEAD JOKE.

Also I'm being dumb. I hope you guys enjoy the end.

READ ON!

---

Engineer smiled at the men as they returned. Scout was unusually quiet, and he didn't have the bounce in his step that he usually did. The Texan did his best to cheer the young man up by placing a hand on the Bostonian's shoulder and saying, "Ya made it back, Son. Great work! Man, what I'd give ta be there with ya."

"I'm really not in the mood, Engie…" Scout muttered. He shrugged the hand off his shoulder and tossed the attaché case in his brother's hands. Engineer blinked at Scout, and the young man cleared his throat, "Where's Medic, by the way? How… how is he?"

Soldier turned to Engineer, and the Texan sighed, scratching his hard hat lightly, "He… oh man… he's in the medical ward right now. Pyro 'n' I did what we could…" Scout was off like a shot before he could hear the rest. Engineer sighed, "…But there wasn't much that was possible…"

Soldier shook his head and motioned for Engineer to follow him, "Guess you were right, Hard Hat. The kid wasn't so bad after all."

"I just wish I could'a kept him from havin' ta do all that on his own," Engineer said with a frown as they went to speak with their Fearless Leader.

"He knew the job was dangerous when he took it, Fred."

Engineer blinked at Soldier in surprise, "My name isn't Fred…"

Soldier stopped for a moment, and sighed in realization. "I've really got to stop watching the TV…" he muttered under his breath.

Engineer really didn't get it.

---

Scout ran like his life depended on it. Medic Medic Medic! After everything he did, now… He didn't want to lose his brother! He slid down the hallway and nearly fell over when he stopped at the doorway to the med ward. He grasped the handle and yanked it open, fighting the urge to call out in the room that he had been taught to remain quiet in, "Medic? Medic?"

Pyro immediately straightened up. S/he had been bent over a bed, and the moment the door had opened, s/he did his/her best to look presentable. Scout stared at the bed that Pyro hung over, and his jaw dropped.

"Mmph… mm…ph…" s/he said. S/he stared at Scout, and looked away from him, as if s/he didn't know that his/her mask was hiding his/her face. The bed had a thin white sheet that covered the body resting on top of it. Scout opened his mouth, and rushed next to the bed, dropping to his knees and staring at the faint outline of the German doctor.

"Medic! Medic, oh god, oh god, why!?" Scout shouted, startling Sniper from his sleep just a bed away.

"Buggerin' bloody hell…" Sniper muttered, turning lightly towards the sound. "Scout's back, huh? He figure it out?"

"Medic… He came with me and he said this would happen. Medic, why did it have to happen to you…?" Scout moaned. Pyro immediately stood and stalked from the room, leaving Scout to mourn his friend. "Medic… what happened…?"

"Hemorrhaging, s'what I heard," Sniper said. Scout stopped shouting for a moment and looked up at the blind man, "there was some internal bleeding. Swelled his head up right good. Brain just couldn't handle it."

"Medic…" Scout groaned, placing his forehead at the edge of the bed. "I shoulda gone on my own. If I went alone, then Medic would still be alive… I coulda avoided their Engineer, I coulda…"

"…Huh. First time I ever heard you sayin' you're regrettin' something…" Sniper said.

"Medic…"

There was silence for a moment, and Sniper sighed, "Hey Mate. Ya know, I can't really see anythin'. I don't think I could really tell anyone if you cried."

Scout blinked at Sniper, nodded, and allowed himself a moment of respite. He laid his head on his arms and sobbed silently to himself, for all of those that had been lost on that day. Sniper, meanwhile, sat a little ways away and sighed heavily.

---

Life changed so much since the battle; so many people were lost, and the gravity of the whole thing hit Scout the most. The day after the battle, he had Engineer and Pyro accompany him to the enemy base so he could collect the bodies of the deceased and give them a proper burial. Pyro asked if s/he could burn the BLUs. Scout would have asked him/her not to, but he was feeling so down that he really didn't care about anything. He asked Soldier about their Fearless Leader, but the leader just shrugged. She didn't care what happened to whom; she just wanted to know how many people survived so she knew how much money to dole out.

Scout frowned and avoided the woman. He really did wonder if their Announcer was the same as BLU's one…

Scout had his left arm in a sling to keep him from moving it too much, but he didn't want to move much anyway. He moved sluggishly wherever he went. He was able to get paid by their leader, but it didn't really make him feel any better. No amount of money would bring any of his brothers back…

Well, at least Soldier was able to convince their Fearless Leader to give Sniper a cut of the money, as well, even though he had no real hand in the intelligence's return. Now he wouldn't be too much of a burden on his parents when he returned to the Outback. The Australian was already beginning to learn how to move about on his own; he could find walls and corners with a cane that Engineer found in the med ward, and Scout tended to run ahead of him, shouting back at him as if they were simply talking. That way, Sniper could walk about the base by following Scout's voice. The young man didn't want to make Sniper feel too much like an invalid, so they kept the system up until Sniper could find his way without the young man's voice. A day after that, the REDs left the base for good.

The men were piled in a large truck; Engineer drove and Soldier worked with the map to the nearest airport, and the rest were piled in the back. Scout sat next to Sniper, and Pyro sat across from them, staring at nothing at all. Scout felt a little left out, seeing that the two people he was riding with were staring in front of them silently, and instead he turned to Engineer, "So, Engie, where are you heading off to when you get to the airport?"

"Home," Engineer replied immediately, "Got a wife and little girl to see back at home. She's grown so much; I can't wait to see her."

"A daughter, huh?" Scout asked, "Maybe sometime I can see her too. I could teach her a little baseball. Give her a good swing!"

"You'll do no such thing, Boy," Engineer said dangerously, "She'll grow up to be a respectable lady, by my multiple PhDs, and respectable ladies don't play baseball."

Scout chuckled lightly under his breath. He wondered how long that would last. He dropped the subject, however, when he turned instead to the co-pilot. "So Soldier, where are you going?"

"Next battlefield."

Scout blinked in surprise. "What? Why?"

"Nowhere else for me to go, really. You guys all got homes to go to. The field of battle is my home." Scout frowned at the way Soldier calmly spoke about it. They were all pretty used to killing, but man, Soldier practically raised it to an art form.

"Right… Hey, what about Pyro? Do you have a home to go to?" It took a moment for Pyro to finally acknowledge that someone else was in the truck, and s/he looked up at the Bostonian. S/he shrugged after a moment.

"Mmphphmm."

Scout frowned, "Switzerland? That's where you're going? You're Swiss? Huh?"

"Switzerland is a neutral country, even through all the bloody shit that's been goin' on," Sniper muttered, not moving at all as he spoke, "Sounds like a good place to unwind."

Scout frowned a little. "A neutral country, huh?" Living in a world of constant fighting, it seemed too good to be true that there was a location that remained neutral through everything.

"Where are you going, then, Boy?" Engineer asked.

The young Bostonian looked up, a small smile prevalent on his face, "I made a promise to someone when I was younger…" he answered wistfully. Engineer turned to Soldier; the passenger shrugged in reply and returned to the map.

---

Boston hadn't changed much over the years, despite the Cold War bombing scares and the constant anger over the Vietnam War. However, even then there was a lingering sadness that hung over the town. Even then, there was a little bit of hope that remained in one house in particular. There was a resident within it that was waiting for someone.

One day, not a very prevalent day of the year, mind you, there was a knock on the door, and a young woman moved to answer it. "I've got it!" she called to the home as she moved to the entry hall and checked who was on the other side. Her eyes widened.

The young woman opened the door a little too quickly. She just couldn't believe what she saw. There was a Bostonian, still quite young in his own right but older than she had last seen him, smiling sheepishly at her exuberance. With a chuckle, he lifted up a small bouquet of flowers he had bought from a stand just down the street, "Uhm… I promised that I'd come back with some money. I didn't expect to be back so soon, but… I'm still sorry for taking so long…"

The young woman stared at his wounded arm in the sling, her eyes wide. He answered by gawking back at her, fighting the lump in his throat. He brought the flowers closer to her as a sort of peace offering for the young woman, "I…'m back…?"

The young woman didn't want the flowers. She took a step out onto the porch and wordlessly wrapped her arms around him. The Bostonian cried out at the invasion of his personal space and dropped the bouquet in surprise. Oh man, hugging like this in public practically meant they were married now! He looked around to make sure no one was around to see their scandalous lovemaking, and then returned to the young woman.

He wrapped his good arm around her waist and didn't let go. "Hey… thanks for waiting for me."

"Mmm… thanks for coming back." Huh… Engineer was right. A woman felt much more different than a brother. "Please don't go away again…"

The Bostonian smiled at the young woman. But even with her smiles and her happiness and the utter feeling of acceptance that the woman gave him, there was something that was so much better about the feeling of swapping stories and hanging out with his brothers-in-arms before heading to bed…

_You know, you aren't so bad, fer a maggot!_

_Little Scout is credit to team! Come see his sandvich making skills!_

_A Spy? You? Heheh… we'll see about that… But who knows? Perhaps someday…_

_Vat an amazink Scout. You don't flinch ven I ztick you… Oh, vat fun vee vill have…!_

_Mmph? Mphphmmph… Mmph! Mmphphmph!_

_When we're all done wit' this bloodfest, we'll go fer a drink! What!? Undah age!? Ya're nevah too young ta drink!_

_Ya know, Boy, you remind me o' myself when I was younger… not nearly as intelligent, mind you, but…_

_I suppose firin' off wildly like a bloody fool can git the same outcome than clean precision, just don't git in my way, a'ight, Mate?_

Scout knew he should be counting his blessings and forgetting about the whole mess, but something in the back of his mind told him that he just wasn't done being an idiot yet… He held the young woman closer and smiled. "I'll see what I can do." _But I can't make any promises…_

…

_Hey Brothers? Just you wait. I'll be coming home soon._

The End!


End file.
